Jazz Hands For The Introvert

It’s funny how holidays fall off your radar when your direct connection ends, or you never had one to begin with. I’m adopted, the mother who adopted me died when I was three. Somewhat down the road my dad took a fancy to my kindergarten teacher. I had a fancy for her as well, I liked her very much; as Miss Smith. Then she started to bogart my father, I didn’t care for that. Over time a muted civil war broke out in my house. My father tried to reach out and comfort both of us. It must have been exhausting.

She died in 2004. Before she went though, my father had some health issues and we spent quite a bit of time together in a hospital waiting room. Through a mutual fear of loss we began to heal. A few years later when she died, I mourned her. Honestly I never expected to. She was my enemy. It was a shame really, she always wanted a son, I always wanted a mother. Only at the end did we reach towards that possibility. In my mourning I also mourned the chances we missed. So much wasted time. I never got the chance to give her a Mother’s Day.

To celebrate this holiday is to acknowledge all mothers, and they deserve it. They are all heroines. I mean let’s start with the birth. be honest guys, we couldn’t do that! This fact alone makes the mistaken myth that men are stronger and tougher complete bullshit.

Yesterday and every now and then, Mother’s day also falls on two birthdays. My cousin’s and my ex-wife’s. I was a horrible husband. Her last birthday during our marriage was forgotten by me. Birthdays…That should be a gimme. No matter how dense we can be that is the one day we should easily remember, unless your an idiot. I was an idiot. Once again I told myself that I would nail it the next year. Again I never got the chance. She came to her senses about a month before and asked for a divorce. I never would have the chance to fix the unfixable. Something like that cannot be fixed, it can only be forgiven, and by that time, there was too much to forgive.

We made contact a few years back on Facebook. I was able to tell her how sorry I was about everything, and I got it. This shocked her, I can’t say I blame her. Considering the level of my blindness there was no reason for her to believe one day I would gain sight, let alone insight. We exchange messages for a little while. Her family thought it weird. I suppose it was. Eventually things dropped off, as I suppose as they should. But every year I remember her birthday, and send her a birthday wish. She has rebuilt her life with a loving husband. She has studied martial arts, clearly meant to beat the crap out of me if she ever saw me again. She’s also a mother now, I suspect a very good one.

Yesterday I sent my annual birthday message. Right after I sent it, I remembered it was also Mother’s Day. I immediately sent her that greeting as well.